


Buffy's Choice

by quelling



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29283399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quelling/pseuds/quelling
Summary: Sometimes, no matter how good a television series ends, you just need a little more. Here's a little more.Buffy was The Chosen, but who was her chosen? What happens after the series was over?(I know there are novels, comics and even the spin-off Angel, but this is based on the Buffy series only.)Obligatory Disclaimer: These characters and this show belong to Joss Whedon and cohorts.  I'm only borrowing them for a bit.
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Buffy's Choice

She tried to make me whole in the moments before I disintegrated. I knew the words were a lie, and I told her so, but still, I wanted to hear them. I needed to hear them. 

I needed to hear them almost as much as I needed to do what I did. And what I did was more than just disintegrate. I chose my death the moment I chose to wear the amulet. I made cracks about the thing, comparing myself to bloody Elizabeth Taylor while sporting it, but I knew. My death showed Angel that I was more committed to Buffy than he'd ever been, it saved the world from The First, it saved Buffy which was my ultimate goal, but it served me as well because at last, I found a kind of salvation in my own ending.

I'm not a poet. Ask Cecily. Ask my cursed mother. I tried to be a poet, but my words tended to make those around me dreaded lurgy instead of inspired. I wouldn't be surprised if they sing-songed _William Pratt is a prat_ behind my back. I would have deserved it. I'd have offed myself if I'd ever met myself back then. Even so, there was a certain poeticism to getting my soul back so that I could turn around and lose it again. Losing my soul to a real death is a lot more valid than giving it up in undeath. Trite, but helping Buffy - giving my bloody life for Buffy - was a lot prettier than anything I could ever written back when I had been a mere, mundane human. Drusilla may have taken my life, but I learned something important as an undead. I learned all the flowery words in the world can't begin to substitute for real action.

To say that I enjoyed the feel of sun on my face for the first time since 1880 in those moments before presto burno is an understatement. It was more than that though because Buffy took my hand. Nice to know we shared more than the heat of passion. I'd like to think we shared a real kinship, a real connection, a real friendship in those seconds. She cared enough to lie to me, so there's that.

Heaven wasn't in the cards, but a century plus of slaughter hadn't earned the pearly gates. One good deed during my swan song wasn't penance enough, and it wasn't as if I did it for the good of all. Well, maybe a little, but mostly I did it for Buffy and I did it for me, and even hell couldn't take that away from me. 

Angelus used to enjoy toying with his victims, taking the time to drive them mad. I usually preferred danger and the fight itself. I was scrappy, but tough. Torture was boring to me, even in hell. Maybe hell is meant to be boring. Now on the receiving end, there's only so many ways to hurt a soul, and I had become a very disinterested party. 

I'm not sure how long I'd been dead, but I knew that hell had remained a bore my entire stay, quite literally. Despite burning into a crispy corpse of ash, my body was back intact when I first woke up in a hell pit and no matter how many times I got reduced to ash again, I fluffed right back out. 

What a cock up for evil though, because as long as they left my memories intact, I had remained capable of taking whatever they threw at me. Not that I'm telling them that anytime soon, but maybe it's some kind of hell-law: if they get to bring my body back over and over for yet another round of punishment, I would get my memories back every time.

All this to explain why I found myself so surprised when they yanked me out of my pit for the day's activities and I already had a hell of a headache. They hadn't even commenced with lashes or slices or burns yet. Not that I was going to give them the satisfaction of knowing I wanted to chunder from a migraine before they even laid a claw on me. 

When the pain became so overwhelming that I fell to my knees, those dim demons finally noticed something was amiss. Maybe they thought it was a ruse, but I'll never know because they rushed at me a second before I felt my head explode. I would have thought the hell spawn had come up with a new torture if they hadn't look so surprised.

It was probably another clue that it wasn't their doing when the pain ended just as abruptly. The pain was replaced with silence. It was peaceful in a way that I hadn't felt in a very long time. Maybe ever. 

It didn't last though. The utter quiet was replaced with birdsong. Bloody birds, if you can believe it. I wouldn't have been surprised to find myself laid out like Snow White on a burial mound because it sounded that much like a Disney track. 

There was also the noticeable absence of heat. One thing mortals have gotten right about Hell was the part about fire. Even when I couldn't see a fire, I felt it. Always sweating, always stifling, always with the dry eyes and mouth from pure, unwavering heat. Taking inventory of my current situation, it felt like a balmy and temperate afternoon in California.

I had to blink at the realization. No way I could be in California, but -- _oh_. I was playing into their hands. Well, I had to give them credit. This was a creative new torture. Remind me just how good things were in the real world? Let me not just remember, but experience things like nice weather and bloody birds before dragging me back to hell. 

Except that's when I heard the human voices. They sounded distant, but close enough that I could clearly identify that they were female. Damn the hope that stirred in my chest.

I looked around, but could only see rubble. No landmarks to recognize, nothing familiar, not even a tree. Rock. Dirt. Debris. Clutter. And expansive sky. Gazing above me, I saw a clear blue sky. The sun was somewhere above, but given the level of light, it was not directly overhead. 

I pushed myself up on my elbows, causing some rocks to shift and fall. Things were starting to look familiar. And again with the voices, close enough to hear some urgency of tone, but nothing more. I found myself on my feet, completely unconcerned with my nakedness, when I realized I was down in a crater. I had died in a crumbling Hellmouth and it looked like I was back again. I also realized that I needed to get to those voices. I'm not sure why I didn't think to immediately call out, but all I could do was rush forward.

"It's not as if there was a gravesite. There wasn't even a body. He could be anywhere." Willow. Witchy, talented Willow.

"I'm aware. That's why I brought rope." Unmistakably Buffy. 

"Rope? You're going to climb down?" That would be Dawn.

"Unless you have a better idea." My Buffy again, so matter of fact. Perfectly Buffy.

"No need to climb, just lower that bleeding rope!" I yelled. They weren't nearly close enough yet, but I scrambled toward them at the edge of the enormous cavern.

"It's him!" Buffy sounded so victorious. So...joyed. 

My eagerness made my legs strong and sure, eating up the space in as few strides as possible.

"Spike!" Buffy yelled again, and I spotted a heavy rope sliding down the edge. 

I don't even remember crawling up and out. It felt like a mere instant and I was atop asphalt and pulling Buffy into my arms. Out of the shadow of the canyon, the bright sun was startling, so I squeezed my eyes shut tight and just held on.

"Well, I think I understand the attraction a lot more," Dawn smirked at my nude body. I might have chastised her, but Willow beat me to it. I ignored them.

Buffy was pulling me forward and I opened my eyes long enough to see a black-out tent a few yards away. I realized that while the sun was blinding, it wasn't painful to my skin. I was in the sunlight and I wasn't burning. 

"I don't understa-," I began, but Buffy cut me off. "Willow found a new, safer resurrection spell," she explained, and I felt an immediate surge of gratitude, but that wasn't the source of my confusion.

"You went to the trouble to bring me back," I murmured. By now, we were completely inside the tent. Buffy was still holding me tight, as if she wasn't letting go again. The others seemed to be keeping their distance, respecting our privacy, I supposed.

"We wanted to do this at night, for your safety, but it only worked during the day," Buffy was explaining again.

I pulled back enough to look at her. "You brought me back," I repeated.

And I may have sounded awed. I was resurrected, and no longer undead. I was alive. Well and truly alive. Most of all, I was alive because Buffy had wanted me to be. "You brought me back," I whispered once more.

For a moment, she looked confused, even slightly hurt and then she smiled a soft smile. She placed a palm on the back of my head, pulling my face down to her own and placing a long, gentle kiss against my lips.

I wanted to weep at her unexpected tenderness. And I won't lie, at her next words, I felt tears sting my eyes. I may have gone through hell, but I found my own sort of heaven in the end.

"I love you, Spike," Buffy whispered, almost reverently. "Not just saying it."

And like that, I was whole.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally watched Buffy The Vampire Slayer. I know, I know, what took me so long? But I wasn't able to just leave the series at the finale, so here is my addendum. 
> 
> I used to write Teen Wolf fanfic (now I see how much that series owes to the Buffy franchise), and I love both series. I used to love writing fanfic, but my brother passed away, I took on care of my aging mother and I got writer's block. I didn't have time to write anyway, but I have still missed it greatly. I'm hoping this means I've got my writing mojo back. And that I can now finish my WIP and jump into new fanfic ideas.
> 
> I haven't read any Buffy fanfic yet, but I'm certain I'm not the first to give Spike and Buffy a happily ever after. They certainly deserve it.


End file.
